Pearls (7 page)

Ellies dropped the pearl onto a piece of black velvet. He rolled it with his finger to test its shape. If it rolled evenly it meant it was a perfect round, the best and most valued kind.

Finally Ellies removed the glass from his eye. 'You have the luck,' he announced. 'Perhaps.'

'Perhaps?' Flynn said. His hands were shaking and his breath smelled of the gin he had drunk that morning to fortify himself for the ordeal of the cleaning.

'Perhaps. Sometimes a pearl has a flaw. Sometimes the flaw goes to the heart and there is nothing to be done about it. You cannot destroy the flaw without destroying the pearl. Like with a man.'

Damned philosophy now! He could strangle him. He just wanted to know how much the damned pearl was worth.

Ellies went to work with the simple tool that was his stock in trade; a three cornered file with one end stuck in a champagne cork. Flynn and George Niland watched him, hardly daring to breathe, as the first bright shreds of pearl skin fell to the table.

***

Ellies straightened with a sigh, and rubbed the pearl with a silk handkerchief that he had produced from his pocket.

'Well?' Flynn said.

Ellies laid the stone on the table. 'You have the good luck,' Tom said, 'the very good luck.' He considered a moment. 'Five thousand pounds.'

Flynn sagged in his chair as if he had been shoot. George licked his lips, like a dog with his eyes on a meat scrap.

'What would I get in Europe?' he asked.

'Perhaps twice this amount. More. Who knows? For such a stone a man might pay anything.'

George was suddenly the businessman once more. He picked up the brown leather briefcase at his feet and took out his chequebook. 'Thank you very much, Mister Ellies. I believe you have earned your commission today.'

***

George closed the door of his office and went to the metal safe in the corner. When ''The Queen of the North' was safely locked away he went to the drinks cabinet and took out a bottle of square face gin. 'A little early in the day but I think a celebration is called for,' he said.

He put two glasses on his desk and poured a healthy measure of gin in each. 'A toast. To 'The Queen of the North'.'

' 'The Queen of the North',' Flynn repeated, and drained the glass. He held it out for another measure.

George took out his chequebook and fountain pen. 'Five thousand pounds less Mister Ellies commission ... that's four thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds.' He tore the cheque from the book and slid it across the desk. 'Not a bad day's work, Patrick old boy. What do you intend to do with your share of the profit? Buy a bigger fleet, I suppose?'

Flynn tucked the cheque in his waistcoat and patted it with affection. He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 'That would look a little obvious now, wouldn't it? I don't want McKenzie breathing down my neck.' His two blackened eyes had started to heal, and the bruises had turned an unattractive chicken-yolk yellow, streaked with plum. His face, George thought with sudden amusement, had the appearance of a salad wilting in the heat.

'What are you grinning at?' Flynn snapped.

'Nothing, old boy. Just smiling over Dame Fortune. She is a fickle mistress.'

'That she is.'

'So - you were saying ... what you were going to do with the money ...'

Flynn drummed gently on the arm of his chair with his fingertips. 'I'm getting too old for the sea. Besides, as you told me yourself, the nature of the business is changing. It's not for fortune hunters anymore.'

'Out with it, Patrick. I smell a plot simmering in that scurrilous brain of yours.'

'I want to invest in Niland and Company.'

George folded his hands across his belly. 'Really? Have you spoken to my father about this?'

'Your father? He's not the future of Niland and Company. You are!'

George noted the deliberate, if clumsy, attempt at flattery. He raised an eyebrow. 'Do you think so?'

'Does he know about the little piece of business we have just concluded?'

'Of course not.'

Flynn shrugged. 'There you are then, my boy.'

George's smile froze on his face. 'You're not thinking about blackmail, are you?'

Flynn gave a short, barking laugh. 'Of course not. I'm sure your father would be delighted to hear about the profit you just made for Niland and Company.' It was a lie, of course, as Flynn well knew. If Henry ever found out his son was dealing in snides he would horsewhip him.

George was silent for a long time, considering. When he finally spoke, he measured each sentence carefully. 'I'll talk to my father about it, although I can't be certain how he'll react.' George knew exactly how he would react. With scorn. 'Of course there is a way you could make the offer irresistible, if you wanted.'

'And how would I do that?'

'What are your plans for young Kate? '

'Kate? She's a stubborn girl, George.'

'Not that stubborn, surely?'

Flynn chewed his lip and tapped his foot nervously on the floor.

'I'll leave that part of it to you then, shall I?' George said, slipping the chequebook back into his drawer. 'You leave the business end to me.'

Flynn finished his gin and held out his glass for another. George ignored the proffered glass and stood up. 'Better get back to work. There's a lot to be done.' He put the gin back in the drinks cabinet. 'Good day to you, Patrick.'

'Right you are, my boy,' Flynn said. He gave George a blowzy smile and went out.

George watched him leave the office and climb in his sulky. Ah, Kathleen, did you think I would give you up so easily? As they say: all's fair in love and war.

Chapter 10

He stepped suddenly out of the shadows. 'The rains will come tonight,' he said softly. A board on the veranda creaked as he came up the steps and sat down.

'I hope so. It's so hot.'

'Your father at the Regret again?'

'As always. But be careful. Liddy is watching. She thinks you're the devil.'

'Maybe she's right.'

As she sat down Cam put his hands on her waist. 'I do nae want to talk tonight. Every night we talk and just when I get to kiss you, Flynn gets home. Let's kiss first this time so he can't spoil it for us.' He reached up and stroked her cheek.

She turned her head away. She felt as if every nun in her old convent school was standing there watching her. This was the moment she had dreamed about and now she had lost her nerve.

'Will you nae kiss me?' he said. But he did not wait for her to answer. He leaned towards her and his lips brushed her cheek, her eyes, her throat. She pulled away. 'Cam ...'

He put a finger to her lips. 'I live for this,' he whispered.

'We have to be careful. Liddy has seen you.

'Liddy?'

'Our house keeper. She thinks you're the devil.'

He grinned. 'I do my best.'

'What must you think of me?'

'You know what I think of you.'

'I mean, I let you kiss me and touch me. What kind of woman does that?'

'It's a natural thing.'

Was it? She had no idea. She knew that many men, even her father on occasion, had a lewd fondness for the barmaids at the Bosun's Regret but they showed them scant respect in their conversation and no man would ever think of marrying one. It seemed to her you were either a girl who had fun and were treated like dirt for it or you got married.

'I love you, Kate.'

'Do you, Cam? Really?'

He grinned. 'Isn't it obvious?'

The words made her shiver. No, it wasn't obvious to her. She didn't have the experience of such things as he did.

When he kissed her, it was like a dam breaking. A good Catholic girl did not kiss back, certainly not until she was married and perhaps not even then. At least, that was what they had told her in the Convent. But she had been thinking about being touched by Cameron McKenzie ever since she first saw him; and perhaps it was because it was the mad time just before the Wet, or perhaps just her own wilfulness but she had already decided that if he asked her she was about to refuse him nothing. She was going crazy here in this hot, stinking little town and though she suspected he might be a rogue, he was a damn fine looking one and so she thought she would take her chances.

***

The storm, known locally as a cock-eye bob, came with a roar, just after midnight. The wind slammed the shutters and doors and rain hammered on the tin roof like a barrage of copper nails.

Kate got up from the bed and slipped into a black silk kimono. She went to the windows and pulled them shut against the rain and wind. A lightning flash illuminated the room for a moment and she glimpsed Cameron's naked body sprawled on his back on her bed.

'Oh my God, what have I done?' she murmured.

If her father ever found out he would kill her. This was bad enough, but to do it in his own house! She was astonished by her own audacity. She had never expected to fall so completely, and so utterly, from grace. But then, she had never thought sin could take on a form as perfect as this.

She had never felt herself so completely alive.

She heard another crash from outside, and at first she thought the wind had blown open the front door. But then she heard her father's muffled curses in the hallway.

Cameron sat up and beckoned to her. She sat down beside him on the bed and he put an arm around her. The doorknob turned and the key rattled in its lock. 'Kathleen! Are you awake, girl? I've something to tell you.'

Flynn's voice was slurred from drink. 'Kathleen! Are you awake, girl?'

Cameron stroked her hair. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

Another crash as Flynn staggered away from the door and collided with something in the hallway. Then silence.

Cameron's hand slipped beneath her kimono and cupped her breast. She felt his breath on her neck. He pushed Kate back onto the bed. The storm thundered above their heads and the crash of the rain on the roof was deafening. She could scream the house down if she wanted, he wouldn't hear a thing.

The Wet was here. The storm thundered on the roof like a barrage of small stones. Everything parched and dry for so long. Outside the succulents opened gently to the moisture and the healing rhythm of rain. She ran her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes. The saints in heaven groaned as he filled her again.

***

Flynn eyed his breakfast in the manner of a man examining his own entrails. He pushed the plate of eggs away, uneaten, and yelled to Liddy to bring him some more black coffee, damn her.

Liddy brought it to the table, her lean face dark and scowling. 'Drink b'long debil-debil,' she muttered. 'You drink him too mus.'

'I'll thank you not to lecture me in my own house,' Flynn said. He sipped the coffee and grimaced. Liddy went away, still muttering gloomily to herself.

Flynn looked up at Kate. 'I've got some good news, girl,' he said.

'You're taking the Oath?'

'Don't you start on me.'

Kate could not meet his eyes. She was sure that if she did he would be able to see the guilt written there as plainly as a confession in black ink on white vellum. 'What's the good news?'

'Would you like to go down to Perth this lay-up? We can rent a house, near the beach somewhere.' He waited for her eager acceptance, which did not come. 'It will be cooler there, girl.'

And leave Cam? For three months? 'But you know I get sea sick,' she said.

'But darlin', you're always complaining about the heat. I thought you'd jump at the chance.'

'Perhaps I'm getting used to it. It was such a rough voyage last time. It took me the whole holiday to get over it.'

Flynn pushed his coffee away, bewildered. His daughter's whimsies were a mystery to him. Everyone tried to get away from Broome during the Wet season if they could.

Flynn was not too disappointed on his own regard; if she came, she would only harp at him about his drinking. But the thing was, George Niland was coming down to Perth on the same steamer and he had hoped it would be the ideal opportunity for him to court Kathleen and change her mind about marrying him.

Flynn hoped so, too.

'Well, you'll have to put up with the sea sickness, girl,' Flynn said. 'We're going, and that's that.'

'I'm not going anywhere.'

Flynn hammered his fist on the table, spilling his coffee on the tablecloth. 'Must you defy me at every turn?'

'I simply do not want to go. Must you decide everything I do without consulting me?'

'I'm your father!'

Kate stood up. 'That just makes it worse,' she said, and swept from the room.